THE TRUTH ABOUT LILEKS & REALITY. The very mention of 50 Cent's book deal* literally freezes Lileks in his tracks this morning; and after, I would guess, tense moments of wondering how to chastise this overambitious blackamoor without getting those P.C. creeps all up in his forehead, the author decides to smack down a foul-mouthed female instead -- while (I like to imagine) wearing a white, spaghetti-strapped t-shirt, with a baby screaming the background and the neighbors banging on the walls of his trailer, on the door of which is hung a piece of cardboard with the words "Jasper Wood" spelled out in colored macaroni. (Gnat made it for school afore she got knocked-ed up.)

"It’s the mainstreaming of shite jokes that annoys me," says Mr. Matchbook. Yet all his ideas for the employment of diarrhea in prop comedy are golden! That bit about Silverman throwing a pail of diarrhea in Jimmy Kimmel's face made me laugh. In fact, I shall bring it to mind for comfort in the grim days ahead.

* I find Mr. Cent's book deal amusing myself. We truly do have the culture we deserve! I note with interest that Cent name-checks Donald Goines, and it would be nice if his enterprise churned up another writer like that. But the relationship of Goines' art to 50 Cent's is roughly that of Edith Wharton to Liz Smith: that is to say, outside of milieu, none at all. For more comprehensive 50 Cent coverage, see Harry Hutton.